


Of Occasional Insomniacs and Insolent Intruders

by Jettee



Series: Redeem the Past and Change the Future [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 18:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3780250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jettee/pseuds/Jettee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all the love Yancy nurses for his beautiful and much needed sleep, there are nights he can't lie still long enough for it to come and overtake him. Many things can happen on sleepless nights in Shatterdome, unexpected guests in one's Jaeger among them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Occasional Insomniacs and Insolent Intruders

**Author's Note:**

> I've got this little "Yancy, Raleigh and Chuck" tangle in my head and that's the start of it. It's just Yancy and Chuck for now and not much more, really.  
> Chuck's sixteen here, so you know.
> 
> Disclaimer: The whole reality of "Pacific Rim" belongs to its rightful owners, I do not own any part of it. This is just for fun.

For all the love Yancy nurses for his beautiful and much needed sleep, there are nights he can't lie still long enough for it to come and overtake him. There's no real reason for it, at least not one Yancy can find on his own; nerves don't bother him this way, be it prior or post battle, and he's not prone to bursts of excessive energy like the never fading one that cruises through Raleigh's veins. Occasional insomnia is a part of the norm for him now, not particularly anticipated part but acceptable from time to time.

It's not so bad, in fact, and after awhile he kinda starts enjoying his unexpected restlessness. Life in Shatterdome never really halts, isn't even significantly slowing at night. The guards patrolling the area are to be expected, but soldiers aside, there are groups of mechanics and engineers tending to their respective Jaegers, scientists pulling long night hours, lost in research and experimentation, and LOCCENT people, analyzing stuff like diagnostic records or battle footage provided by the cameras from Jumphawks. It's a pretty long list of places to be and people to bother. Having that choice, Yancy usually spends the extra time either with Gipsy's crew working the grave shift with them or deep in the guts of Shatterdome in K-Section, trying to learn something new about the alien invaders.

The feeling of total lack of tiredness hits him - as it always is on those nights - the exact moment his head touches the pillow. Not keen on disturbing Raleigh's rest, he waits till the kid's asleep and only then silently lets himself out of the room.

He starts his night at the laboratories. Since Doctor Newton Geiszler joined them in Anchorage some time ago, Yancy more often than not chooses to accompany him in crazy experimentations, as the good doctor has a habit to forget that sleep is usually customary for people. The guy is something else. He has no reservation about sharing his knowledge and theories with anyone who's ready to listen, regardless the occupation and position in Shatterdome. Yancy's ready, is interested, and as the time passes, he more and more often contributes to Geiszler's monologues. Geiszler's glad someone is trying, but either he has too many things to say out loud or he just likes the sound of his own voice just a tad too much to allow for anything more than short lived discussions.

Sadly, tonight doctor Geiszler's station is empty. A pretty, young and clearly sleep deprived assistant of some other scientist reveals that he's engaged elsewhere, some thing of greatest importance going on in Shatterdome, all big names called on board. As the girl isn't interested in the company of a Jaeger pilot who would only bother her and distract from a report she needs to finish for the morning session, Yancy hits his other location of preference: the Gipsy's bay.

He finds a small bunch of people there, most of them equipped with diagnostic devices and tools. Yancy exchanges a few hi's and how's it going's on his way toward Gipsy but without stopping and bothering the crew. He would gladly offer his help if someone decided he could provide it, but till then he just lets them work. It's not like the crew is here to entertain a bored Jaeger pilot who just can't sleep.

“Gipsy has a visitor up there,” Ethan Anderson, one of techs, informs him. He doesn't say anything more, already deeply absorbed in readings of some kind of measurement device that's hooked into a port in one massive foot, not even noticing Yancy's nod of thanks.

Interest peaked, Yancy hops on a cat ladder leading onto the first level of maintenance platforms. That one and the next are empty, so he keeps going up.

He finds the intruder on a hoist platform that hangs on steel lines at the Gipsy's breast plate level. The man is wearing fatigues, old school bomber jacket and a cap, but as he is facing away from Yancy, any emblem on it is a mystery for now. His hand hovers a couple of inches away from the metal shell as if he's afraid to actually touch the painted surface.

“Can I ask what are you doing up here? You're not a part of the crew, I would know,” Yancy says, aiming to surprise the stranger.

He's not disappointed. The man visibly startles - Yancy's good like that, climbing scaffolds with no sound to betray his presence a second too soon - and whirls around. The cap is casting a shadow on his face, but it's obvious he's pretty young. He has to be at least in his late teens if the uniform and dog tags hanging from his neck in plain view are any indication, but he doesn't really look old enough to wear them.

Surprisingly, the kid's bewilderment is almost immediately schooled into an expression of total composure. He even raises his hands in unthreatening gesture as if it's Yancy who should be scared here.

“'M just looking, no need to raise your hackles.” 

Definitely not someone from Gipsy's crew. Not from the States, period. Not with the accent.

“What happened to the 'unauthorized access denied'?”

“You tell me,” the kid grumbles, looking back at Gipsy's emblem and losing interest in further explanations. “She's a real beauty, Gipsy Danger.”

“Sure she is.” Yancy is unable to deny himself a moment of pure awe shared with this kid who's so clearly bright eyed over his and Raleigh's girl. Yancy has seen many people, military and civilian both, fascinated by giant battle robots - and by their pilots, no less - but there's something different in this one. He doesn't seem to be interested in Yancy at all, for one, not his picture, not his autograph, not stories how it is to be a famous Jaeger pilot. He has eyes only for the busted brunette decorating the chest plate of Gipsy. But it's not like he's enamored with the pretty picture; there's some kind of sincere respect when he touches the steel a few good inches away from the portray - first just the tips of his fingers, then the whole hand, gently. Wherever this kid comes from, he understands. “So, care to tell me, who you are? It's only polite, you know.”

The kid doesn't take his eyes or his hand away from the Jaeger. 

“You didn't introduce yourself,” he says after a moment.

Yancy stares. Blinks. Stares some more. Was this guy asking his name? For real? _His_ name?

There's a soft snort and then the kid turns around to face Yancy. He leans back against the protecting barriers, crossing his arms in relaxed pose.

“Hold your horses, hot shot. I know who you are. The whole fucking world knows who you are.” There's some wistful note in his voice. Jealousy? Before Yancy can say anything, the kid continues. “We've met, you know. Briefly, in passing, a year or so ago. I was with Lucky Seven crew. You got the chance to admire her from head to toe. I just thought I would be granted the same courtesy while I'm here.”

“You're...” Lucky Seven. That would explain the accent. Yancy narrows his eyes, trying to remember someone so young in Australian crew. 

“Chuck Hansen,” the kid finishes for him, disappointment mostly masked but still traceable in his voice.

Hansen? As in...

“Herc Hansen's kid?”

Before the boy can react, Yancy reaches for the cap and steals it in one fluid movement. Now that he knows what to look for, he easily sees the resemblance to the Lucky Seven's pilots. Dirty blond kinda reddish hair, Hansen family features recognizable in a teenage face. And speaking about age...

“I didn't know Herc has a kid old enough to join the military. Are those even real?” Yancy indicates the dog tags. 

That makes Chuck to grimace. Anger flashes in green gray eyes, but when he speaks, only an edge of it makes it into his voice.

“Surprise, surprise. I'm just special like that.”

Yancy smirks at the dark note in the boy's tone, as if Chuck couldn't decide whether he should feel more insulted or more proud or perhaps totally indifferent. He's trying to play it cool, but it doesn't take, and it clearly frustrates him.

Prickly little Australian shit. Pretty, too.

Yancy tries not to dwell on it, but now, remembering his and Raleigh's visit with Lucky Seven crew, he has to admit that Chuck's on his way to nice, solid soldier's build, his posture going from gangly into well defined. Still a kid, though, some grow yet to be done. Some stubble yet to appear and shadow the boyish face.

“So, my old man was hospitable enough to invite the two of you Beckets on tour in and outside Lucky. Care to return the favor?”

Why the hell not? He can play a proud and generous host here. He reaches over to a control panel of the hoist and presses a button, once more startling his guest when the platform starts to sink down. He stops the movement at the heart of plasma cannon. If something's worth to look up close, it's Gipsy's plasma cannon.

Chuck starts to ask all kinds of detailed technical questions about Gipsy and Yancy's glad to provide the required information as long as the boy is absentmindedly answering his own inquiry. In no time he knows that Chuck's on his break after the first trimester of Academy training (he's impressed because he still remembers the nightmare of those first initial eight weeks of impossible physical and mental grinding), that the Hansen Senior is one of those big names taking part in the mystery session and Chuck was summoned here to wait for him instead of going home straight from Kodiak Island, that he's mad at his old man for not bringing their bulldog Max along and instead leaving the dog behind with Uncle Scott, who's probably enjoying the break like there's no tomorrow. There's more, like the fact he's not too fond of former Ranger Stacker Pentecost who's his instructor in Academy and apparently has some history with Hansen family. It's all rather amusing how Chuck isn't really aware of things he reveals to a total stranger, too absorbed in Gipsy's little secrets to guard his own.

They wander around the complicated construction of ladders and platforms, looking up everything that can be reached. Chuck has many comments to offer, not all of them positive, and they argue a little. Still, it doesn't make Yancy mad. He feels small prickles of anger after a few straightforward critic opinions, but when he asks if Chuck wants to see Gipsy's blueprints as a proof of excellent technical solutions, he gets a refusal and an admission that Chuck not only had already seen it but for a long time had a little part of it (Gipsy's left hand) stuck over his desk.

It's one of those things that he says without his consciousness giving a green light to go, and it shows when Yancy says something about being pleased to meet a true fan and Chuck reddens at that like a... Well, he is a teenager. And maybe Gipsy's not just a Jaeger he has a chance to look at while he's waiting for his father on his way home. So what?

In fact, it's because of that Yancy takes him to the Conn Pod though he really, really shouldn't.

“It's different than Lucky's,” Chuck comments almost immediately after getting in. He touches one of the harnesses, then goes to the front screen wall, now black. “It's different than the blue prints, too,“ he adds, his voice a little strained after the earlier slip up. 

“Yeah. They are customized for the pilots.”

Chuck goes back to the right harness.

“In my Jaeger I'll take this one.”

“First pilot station?” Yancy raises an eyebrow at him. “Confident much, kid?”

“No more than you, old man.” Chuck immediately winces, cursing loudly for taking a bait, and Yancy laughs.

“It's okay,” he says in a placatory manner, trying to sound serious, but it's hard when Chuck levels him with a heated stare. “I didn't mean anything by that, honestly. I do wish you luck with your training. We need good pilots and so far Hansens prove to be ones of the best.”

“Gonna be the best,” Chuck growls like it's meant as a threat. “You just wait and see, Becket.”

“It's Yancy,” he offers with a smile that makes Chuck fluster for whatever reason. “So, do you have more questions or are we calling it a night?”

Hesitation shadows green gray eyes, but is gone in a flash. 

“Just one.”

The sudden movement that brings Chuck in front of him takes Yancy by surprise. Chuck reaches for Yancy's hand and directs it at... Ah, well, that one's unexpected. 

“You interested?” Chuck looks straight into his eyes, though it's clear it's not as easy for him as he would like to pretend. He lets go of Yancy's hand in an instant he makes clear his intentions. Still, it takes a moment for Yancy to move away from him. It's an accident, not conscious action, that before he takes a step back, the tips of his fingers slide along the outline of half hard cock curving beneath the fatigues.

“Ah, Chuck, wait...” Words are abandoning him. It was fun watching Chuck embarrassed and flustered before, but if he suspected the real reason behind all of that, he wouldn't laugh. He wouldn't encourage it. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “You're... How old are you, exactly?”

“Sixteen. I'm sixteen,” Chuck answers flatly, but the whirl of emotions in his eyes betrays him. The shadow of doubt is back, and with it the first traces of anger. “Apparently old enough to earn those.” He tugs at his dog tags.

“That's... all right, I guess, but... I'm...”

“Twenty four.” Chuck shrugs. He crosses his arms in front of him in a defiant gesture, but in the end it looks more like defence than defiance. “I know. I don't care.”

“I think your dad would care if he knew.”

It's the wrong thing to say, Yancy knows it even before he finishes the sentence. Chuck goes rigid and his expression closes. He nods once, sharply.

“Thanks for the tour, Becket. You've got sweet ride here.” His voice is quivering with held back anger. He doesn't lash out and that surprises Yancy. He would prefer if Chuck did lash out, he would know how to proceed from there. Now it's too late to say something like 'Blokes don't do it for me, sorry' (which is so not true) or 'I don't do hot redheads' (which is even bigger bullshit) or even 'Jailbaits are a no go around here'. Everything would be better, with 'No, I'm not interested in a sixteen year old kid' at the top of the list.

“Hey, Hansen!”

Chuck stops in his steps toward exit but doesn't look back at Yancy.

“Next time we meet we'll be both Jaeger pilots,” Yancy promises.

“You will know I'm more than just Herc Hansen's kid,” Chuck retorts before he leaves Yancy alone in Gipsy's Conn Pod.

It's not the ideal parting line, but Yancy has to admit that he deserves that. Going back to his room he crosses his fingers for a chance to meet both Hansens before their departure to Australia and to smooth out the situation with Chuck. But it's not happening. He has to put it aside and wait for the next fortunate occasion.

Well, it could be worse. It could be Raleigh hit by sudden insomnia and confronted with insolent defiant intruder. Pretty, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
